


Drabbles to Nowhere

by hpdm4ever, MessiFangirl (hpdm4ever)



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Argentina National Team, Brazil National Team, Copa América, Drabble, Friendship, Gen, Honduras National Team, Injury, Injury Recovery, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Team as Family, international friendlies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-30
Updated: 2016-07-18
Packaged: 2018-07-19 06:45:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7350115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hpdm4ever/pseuds/hpdm4ever, https://archiveofourown.org/users/hpdm4ever/pseuds/MessiFangirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Drabbles/fic I started but have lost interest in.<br/>Rating may change.<br/>Additional tags, characters, pairings will be added.</p>
<p>1. He Walks Off<br/>---Neymar finds out about Leo's back injury against Honduras.</p>
<p>2. Leaving on a Jet Plane<br/>---Leo's back is plaguing him on the flight to New Jersey. Kun is worried.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. He Walks Off

**Author's Note:**

> Sometimes I start writing and don't know where I'm going. Then I either figure it out, or I don't lol. Things remain unfinished and I know they're going to continue to remain unfinished. But, I thought people might like to read them anyway.

Neymar almost doesn't pick up the phone, but he made a promise once never to ignore his father's calls. 

So he sighs, puts down his drink, and answers. "Yes, Pai?" he asks, tucking the phone under his ear so that he can continue to hold his cards. He's one card away from a flush, and as the pile of chips in front of him can attest, he's been having a bit of a hot streak.

The music is loud in the background, and there are people everywhere. But Neymar's on vacation in Ibiza, and he's not hiding that. "What's that?" Neymar asks, exchanging a card and crossing his fingers as the dealer slides a new one forward. "Sorry, what?" he repeats, his dad's voice having been drowned out by a burst of laughter behind him.

"Have the respect to pay attention to me, son," his father says angrily, and Neymar winces and puts down his cards so no one can see them. 

He doesn't have the flush, anyway.

He spins his hat around so the brim is behind him and plugs one of his ears while mouthing 'sorry' at his friends. "I'm sorry, Pai," Neymar says, fighting the urge to sigh heavily.

That'll only get him into more trouble...

"I said, I thought you'd be calling me," his father says, an odd tone coloring his voice, and Neymar frowns.

"What do you mean?" Neymar replies, toes tapping beneath the table. "Was I supposed to call you?" He arches an eyebrow at Gil, who only shrugs. 

"You disappoint me," his father says, and Neymar rolls his eyes. He almost picks up his cards again, but his father continues. "Do you not watch when your teammates play? Just because you are not in this tournament doesn't mean that you can just slack off. You need to be watching these games, son, need to be learning their strengths and weaknesses... What is going through your head?"

"I'm on vacation, Pai," Neymar says, thunking his head down in the table. "It's not for long," he says, voice probably muffled by the felt. "I just needed a few days to decompress." 

He's not going to let his father ruin his mood. He's not.

He's on a well-deserved vacation. And he'll spend it however the hell he wants.

"Decompress?" his father says, scoffing. "Partying on a yacht isn't going to let you decompress, Junior." 

Neymar isn't on a yacht at the moment, but saying that isn't going to make his father any less upset, so he merely says, "What did you call for, Pai?"

His father sighs, and Neymar can just picture him rubbing his forehead wearily on the other end. "Messi just took a knee to the back, son. Turn on the Argentina game. And then you can call me back if you want."

His father disconnects, but Neymar just sits there, unmoving.

Then he shoots up, backing away from the table. "Turn off the music," he says, shouting it again when nobody seems to hear him. He spins away from the table, fumbling with the remote and trying to find the game. "What channel is the fucking game on?" he yells at Gil who stares back at him wide eyed.

In the end, Jo takes the remote, flipping through the until they find it.

Neymar stands there in the middle of the room, hand pressed to his mouth as they show the replay on the screen. 

It's a beautiful back heel--a pass that only Leo would attempt--to set up a counterattack against Honduras. But they shove him. They *shove* him while he's off balance in the air, and he goes flying--arms scrambling to stay up like he always does--right into the knees of another player. 

And Leo goes down. 

And he stays down.

Neymar almost throws up. 

Sometimes there are days, or even weeks, where he forgets what happened during the World Cup. He forgets the multitude of tears, the shooting pains, the surgery. He forgets the months of recovery, the grief his country suffered... He forgets all of that happened. He lives his life, and just plays his football the way he wants to.

Then something small will bring it all back--something will remind him of the darkest period in his life.

"Get me my phone," Neymar whispers, staring at the screen. He reaches out blindly, taking the remote from Jo and rewinding to watch the collision again. He watches Leo fall, watches Leo's face screw up in reaction, watches Leo roll on the ground unable to get up.

Gil brings it over, closing Neymar's fingers around it when Neymar doesn't look up. "He's okay," Gil says, squeezing Neymar's hand. "He walks off, Ney--he doesn't need a stretcher. He walks off."

Neymar doesn't answer, fumbling with his phone and calling back his father. "Pai," he breathes. He doesn't even know what to say, his stomach churning dangerously, fingers squeezing the remote in his hands like he can rewind time and prevent what just happened.

"I know," his father says, not sounding happy. "I know," he repeats, clearing his throat.

On the screen, Neymar watches Leo cover his eyes with his hand before being led to the bench. "Pai," he says again, helplessly, his own back twinging in sympathy. He sits down on the sofa, his legs turning to jelly beneath him.

"I know," his father repeats for the third time. "I've got you a flight out in an hour."


	2. Leaving on a Jet Plane

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Leo lifts his head off Kun's shoulder and instead turns towards the window of the plane, Kun knows something is up. He pauses the movie he's been watching on his iPad while waiting for takeoff, and tugs one of his earbuds free. "Leo?"
> 
> When Leo makes a little sound and then holds a hand up to cover his eyes, Kun knows that something is really wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place during Copa América.

When Leo lifts his head off Kun's shoulder and instead turns towards the window of the plane, Kun knows something is up. He pauses the movie he's been watching on his iPad while waiting for takeoff, and tugs one of his earbuds free. "Leo?"

When Leo makes a little sound and then holds a hand up to cover his eyes, Kun knows that something is really wrong.

Leo had been dozing on and off for at least the last hour, ever since the pilot had made an announcement that they would be in for a lengthy stay on the runway. Leo's head had been a little heavy on Kun's shoulder, and though he'd been breathing gently, it had been a little annoying as every breath brushed Kun's neck. 

But it hadn't been annoying enough to push Leo off, especially since every time he'd woken up, he'd smiled in thanks at Kun before his eyes fluttered closed again.

The last few minutes, though, Leo had been clearly uncomfortable--squirming and shifting, crossing his legs and then uncrossing them, breathing changing from gentle to strained. 

At first Kun thought that Leo had been having a nightmare... Now Kun's not so sure.

So Kun pulls his other earbud out and wraps the cord around his iPad. He tucks everything into his seat pocket, wanting to get up. He pauses and looks over at the lit fasten seatbelt light. But then, "Fuck it," he says, unclicking his seatbelt so he can kneel on the floor in front of Leo. "Are you alright?" he asks, uncaring that he can see the flight attendant giving him a dirty look. 

The woman reaches for the telephone next to her head, speaking urgently to someone on the other end. Shortly after, the captain's voice comes over the intercom. "Folks, I know we've been sitting on the runway for awhile, due to the storms over New Jersey," the man says, clearing his throat. "I thank you for your patience. Unfortunately, I don't have any news to share with you at this time."

Groans ring out around the plane, and Kun shakes his head, irritated, before he turns back to Leo.

The captain continues, "However, due to our position on the runway, I do have to ask that you all remain seated with your seat belts firmly fastened unless it is an emergency. In the event that you need assistance, please summon one of the flight crew, who would be happy to help you. In ten minutes I should have another update on our situation, which I will share with you immediately. Shortly after, when we reach the two hour mark, and if we are still waiting, the flight attendants will be distributing water and snacks to those who would like it. I apologize for the delay, and again folks, let's keep those seat belts on. Thank you."

Kun ignores it, hand on Leo's leg.

"I'm fine," Leo bites out. But he doesn't look at Kun, and he doesn't take his hand away from his face. He shifts in his seat and makes another noise--this time Kun immediately identifies it as one of pain. "Just, ah, fuck, sitting here for so long..." Leo's other hand goes to his back, adjusting the small pillow that's cushioning the base of his spine.

It doesn't seem to help, because as soon as Leo lets go of it, he makes that sound again.

Kun doesn't have a pillow of his own, otherwise he would immediately give it to Leo. In fact, when they'd boarded, Leo's seat had been the only one for at least ten rows that'd had a pillow. Kun had laughed about it then, delighting in Leo's surprised smile when they'd sat down. Now, he desperately wishes he'd gotten one, too. 

Because an hour and half of sitting without moving has clearly taken its toll on Leo.

At the airport they'd had to wait, too, but there at least Leo could walk around while they waited. They'd all been irritated by their first flight having been cancelled, and then the following flight not being scheduled for hours later. There'd been talk about staying another night in Houston, but the AFA had refused to put them up in a nearby hotel... citing budget restrictions. 

Nobody had been happy, but now, knowing that Leo's in such pain, Kun's furious.

He stands up, ducking to avoid hitting his head on the roof, and disobeys the frantic motions of the flight attendant for him to sit down again. He storms back ten rows to where the doctor is, ignoring the confused looks that his teammates are giving him. 

After a hushed conversation, the doctor gets up and follows him back to Leo.

The flight attendant looks like she's going to have a conniption, finally unstrapping herself from her seat and approaching them angrily. After the doctor slides by Kun and goes to kneel at Leo's feet, Kun stands there and blocks the entrance to his row. "Sir, I'm going to need you all to return to your seats," the flight attendant says, a fake smile pasted on her face.

Kun tries to explain himself, but he's so angry and worried that the words get stuck in his throat. 

Behind him the doctor is pulling gloves on and speaking to Leo in low tones. After motioning Leo to scoot forward, the doctor begins to feel around the base of his back. Kun can't hear whatever is said in response, but the doctor nods and taps out a few pills to hand to Leo.

The flight attendant peers around him, but must notice what's happening. "Is he alright?" she asks, tone softening. "Do you need help?" She turns back to Kun, but whatever else she's about to say is interrupted by the pilot coming onto the intercom.

"Alright folks," the captain says, "I've just heard from the tower that we are indeed going to be waiting for at least another half hour, so I'm gong to go ahead and turn that seatbelt sign off. You are free to use the lavatories at this time, although we do ask that you keep your seat belts on while you are in your seats. Again, I apologize for the delay. I'm informed that the storms are moving as expected, so hopefully the skies will be clear before too long. Lastly, our flight crew now begin distributing beverages and snacks to tide you over. Thank you for your cooperation, and I'll be sure to give you another update on our situation when I receive new information."

Around Kun, more groans ring out.

The doctor appears at his shoulder. "I've given him some painkillers again, but really, he's okay. He's just stiff. What he needs to do is walk," he says to flight attendant. Then to Kun, "Give him a minute and then help him up. I want him to go down the aisle and back a few times." He gives Kun a knowing look. "He doesn't want a fuss."

The flight attendant turns to go aback to her duties, and the doctor heads back to his seat.

People everywhere are standing and stretching, a few making a break for the lavatories before a line forms.

Masche stands up from his seat across the aisle. "Alright?" he asks, nodding his head towards Leo. "His back?" he guesses, making a face.

Kun nods, holding up a hand to wave him to stay where he is. Then he goes back to Leo's seat and squats in front of him. "How we doing?" he asks, putting his hand on Leo's knee to keep his balance.

Leo isn't hiding his face any longer, but his eyes are closed and his head is tipped back as if he's desperately trying to relax. "Not good," he admits, gritting his teeth. He takes a deep breath in through his nose, and then exhales slowly. 

"Doc wants you to walk a little," Kun says sympathetically. "Thinks it'll help." 

Leo takes another deep breath. "I know, he told me," he says, finally opening his eyes. "Can you help me up?" He stares at Kun wearily. "I'm sorry, I thought I was over this."

Kun shakes his head. "Come on, now," he says, standing up and hunching over. "Let's walk." He grabs Leo under the arms and starts to raise him up, letting Leo wrap his arms around his neck. Leo inhales sharply, fingers gripping the material of Kun's shirt, but he doesn't make any other noise. 

Then Kun guides him out into the aisle, watching as Leo unsteadily takes a few steps. "I can do it," Leo whispers, noticing the attention they're drawing, and Kun has no choice but to let him go. "I can do it," Leo says again, more to himself than to Kun, putting a hand on his back and gritting his teeth.

Kun watches him walk down the aisle. He watches as Leo has to stop every few steps, ignoring his teammates, gripping onto the nearest seat backs for support before continuing on. He watches, helplessly, as his best friend holds back whimpers of pain.

Pain that could have been avoided if they'd just stayed an extra night in Houston.

And it's why Kun feels absolutely no shame when he pulls out Leo's phone and makes a post on Instagram.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I still can't write much about this time :/ so this is probably finished

**Author's Note:**

> Again. UNFINISHED. And probably will always remain unfinished. Xoxo


End file.
